


try a little tenderness

by blueink3



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Boys Being Idiots, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Friendship, M/M, Tenderness, spoilers for 6x03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22356976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueink3/pseuds/blueink3
Summary: "Dress for the part you want,” he says, draping his arms over Patrick’s shoulders. He hopes Patrick can’t feel how tense he still is. Or smell the wine on his breath.“Ah,” Patrick hums, small smile tugging delicately at the corner of his lips. David wants to kiss it off. “And the part you wanted was…”David feels his nose scrunch as the lie leaves his lips. “Supportive friend?”“Try again, David,” Patrick replies.Or, people seemed a little 'knives out' in 6x03, so have a softer coda.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & David Rose
Comments: 79
Kudos: 488





	try a little tenderness

By the time he storms out of Stevie’s apartment, he’s feeling tipsy enough to question whether he should actually be driving (he’s subsisting solely on a packet of peanuts, after all - fuck you very much, Carol), but not sober enough to actually do anything about it. 

It’s fine. It’s fine. It’s all fine. The ride to Patrick’s is short and there are Comme de Garcon pajamas with his name on them waiting for him when he gets there. Patrick’s clothes were new and exciting eight hours ago, but he now feels like there are cotton fingers closing in around his neck as a denim vise tightens around his balls. Christ, how does Patrick _wear_ these? 

He unbuttons the top two buttons as he parks Patrick’s car outside his apartment, thoroughly ignoring Stevie’s laughter that’s _somehow_ still echoing in his head. He blames the wine. If that skunked white grape juice can even be called that.

“Hey,” Patrick calls, back to the door as he stirs something that smells frankly fucking _delicious_ on the stove. “How’s Steve - ” but he stops as he turns, getting a good look at David hovering in the doorway. “Um…” he manages eloquently as he stares. 

Well, that’s flattering. 

“Hi,” David breathes, already feeling the weight that’s been sitting on his stiffly starched shoulders all day evaporate a bit at the sight of him. 

“You know,” Patrick starts, putting the wooden spoon down in its holder and sauntering over to him, “when you texted me to say that Stevie’s emergency was just finding an outfit for a job interview - thank you, by the way. I was worried - I didn’t realize that meant a costume change for you, too.” 

“Well, you know. Dress for the part you want,” he says, draping his arms over Patrick’s shoulders. He hopes Patrick can’t feel how tense he still is. Or smell the wine on his breath. 

“Ah,” Patrick hums, small smile tugging delicately at the corner of his lips. David wants to kiss it off. “And the part you wanted was…” 

David feels his nose scrunch as the lie leaves his lips. “Supportive friend?” 

“Try again, David,” Patrick replies, sliding his arms around David’s waist and his hands into his back pockets. “Oh this is fun,” he says, getting sidetracked as he gives his ass a little squeeze.

David can’t say he minds. He may have to invest in tighter pants. Or shorter shirts. 

Patrick squeezes again. 

Or both.

“How was the store?” 

“Fine. How was being a ‘supportive friend’ at flight attendant school?” It’s always annoyed David how Patrick can make air quotes using only his voice. 

He groans and steps out of Patrick’s embrace, all but stomping over to the stove to taste the sauce his perfect fiance has on simmer. Then he groans for an entirely different reason. 

“David,” Patrick says much closer this time, half warning, half tease, as he presses against David’s back and gently takes the spoon from his hand. 

“She made me say she was more qualified that I was.” 

He feels Patrick shrug. “Maybe she is.” 

“But it’s a terrible airline!” 

“So?" He kisses his vertebrae. "You said you wanted to be a supportive friend. Stevie clearly wants to find that out for herself.”

“That’s not the point!” 

“Then what’s the point?” Patrick asks with the patience of a fucking saint as he noses _beautifully_ behind his ear, and David isn’t sure why that’s what makes him snap but it is. 

“Oh my God!” he yells, pushing away from the counter and all but throwing Patrick off his back as he stalks over to the couch and drops unceremoniously down into it. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Patrick asks, still standing in the kitchen with his palms out placatingly, like David’s going to spook. Like David’s overreacting. Like David’s being _too much_.

Gee, wonder what gave him that idea?

“David?” Patrick prompts again, coming closer. 

“Nothing!” he yells, floundering because he doesn’t really know why he’s yelling. It feels good to yell. Does it, though? “Just - does she really want to work for a place that clearly doesn’t know what they’re doing?” 

“And why don’t they know what they’re doing?”

“Because they didn’t hire me!” he snaps. 

Without even looking, he can feel Patrick go still behind him. 

Okay, he didn’t mean to say that. 

At least not out loud. 

He closes his eyes and exhales, clasping his fingers together and leaning his elbows on his knees. If he just makes himself as small as possible, maybe he can make this night go away, but that’s not going to happen because these pants are _too fucking tight._

He hears a noise and squints an eye open to see Patrick taking a seat across from him on the coffee table and mirroring his position. He seems to be holding onto himself just as tightly, too. 

His fiance’s steady breaths and the bubbling of the sauce on the stove are the only sounds he can hear. Why is he ruining this? 

“Last I checked, you had a job,” Patrick murmurs, not accusatorially, and David hates himself just a bit. “And a decent coworker.” Understatement. “Who makes eyes at you on the regular.” Fact. “And _continually_ breaks store policy to make out with you in the stockroom.” 

“Um, I think said coworker made those store policies?” he finally amends with a smile that (thank God) Patrick returns. 

“For productivity’s sake, David. Self-preservation.” But then Patrick drops the teasing, takes his hands, and his eyes go wide, blinding David like the sun with their serious sincerity. “David, are you not happy with this? The store?” He licks his lips and swallows. "Us?" 

“God, no,” he gasps wetly, emotions staging a riot worthy of Attica. "I’m so happy. I’m…” How can Patrick think that? He stops and shakes his head. “Happy doesn’t... “ but the words won’t come. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Blame the gas station cooking wine Stevie served me.” 

“Hey, hey,” Patrick soothes, bringing David’s hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to each ring he put on his fingers. 

“I’m happy,” David reiterates. 

Patrick smiles and rubs his thumbs back and forth over David’s knuckles. “I’m happy, too.”

"So fucking happy," he manages even as a tear spills down his cheek. “Sorry - ” 

“Don’t apologize,” Patrick whispers, catching the tear with his finger as David flicks a hand like it means nothing. 

“No, I was just trying to make a point and it became a competition and Stevie wound me up and then I _lost_ \- ” 

“And we know how well you take that,” Patrick interrupts, and David leans back, eyebrows flying up. 

“Um, pot? It’s kettle,” he snaps and Patrick chuckles. 

“Fair enough. So… she got the job over you?”

David scrunches his nose again as he tilts his head back, feeling the collar dig into his neck, despite the fact that he unbuttoned _two_ _whole_ buttons.

“You know, David,” Patrick murmurs, leaning in and tugging David forward to meet his eyes once more, serious sincerity back firmly in place, “it’s okay to not want Stevie to go.” 

“That’s not - No, I wasn’t…” but he trails off because if anyone is going to see through his bullshit, it’s the man in front of him. “It’s just - Alexis is leaving me for the Galapagos. Stevie is leaving me for _completely private_ new paid toilets _._ ”

“Um...” 

“I just - everyone’s leaving.” And as he says it, he realizes that this is what he felt like whenever Alexis would take off on someone else’s private jet. It’s what he felt like when he drove away in Roland’s truck without Stevie in the passenger seat. It’s what he felt like when Patrick shut the door of room 7 and followed his fiancee into room 4. 

“I’m not leaving you, David,” Patrick says. Simply. Succinctly. Like it’s a fact that cannot be disputed. 

And maybe it is. 

“No, I know - ”

“David,” he says again. “I’m not leaving. And the people that are, the people that _may,_ ” he cups his face in his warm, capable, businessy hands, “will always come back.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“Yes, I do.” He kisses the tip of his nose. "Alexis is still here. Stevie is still here.” 

David smiles softly. “You’re still here.” 

"I'm still here." Patrick lets go of his cheek and picks up his left hand. His engagement rings bounce the lamplight around the room. “And I’m not going anywhere.” 

David blows out a breath and falls forward, forehead crashing rather indelicately with Patrick’s collarbone. His fingers massage the base of David's skull, blunt nails scratching the hair at the nape of his neck. David hums and leans further into him, letting Patrick take more of his weight because he knows he can. He knows he will. 

“I think I owe Stevie an apology,” he mumbles against his shirt and he feels Patrick press a kiss onto his temple. “She should have come to you. You’re the responsible, non-overreacting person.” He feels Patrick smile. 

“I think she did just fine on her own. Also, might I remind you of our engagement hike.”

David laughs and nods, pulling away and not caring that Patrick sees him wipe his eyes. “Dinner smells good," he manages as he feels Patrick reach for his back pockets again. He lifts up to give him room, thinking he’s getting a congratulatory grope for his emotional processing, but instead, Patrick grabs his phone and tosses it in his lap.

“Invite Stevie. We’ll celebrate.” 

As much as he’d like to have Patrick to himself after a day apart, he knows he’s right. “Mkay, but not with her wine. She could power all of Larry Air with that motor oil.” 

“That’s what she settles for when we stop her from stealing from the store.” Patrick stands and leans down, pressing a kiss to his head. “C’mon. Get out of these clothes. You can’t be comfortable.” 

“Ugh, seriously, how do you _do_ this on a daily basis?” 

In all honesty, he can’t wait to find out. 


End file.
